


different pages of the same book

by sophos (ians_carer)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Sex, F/M, i dont normally write fics but this is based off of my highspecs with my rp partner, theyre fucked up, this is the most vanilla sex they've ever had, wor highspecs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 22:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12898665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ians_carer/pseuds/sophos
Summary: ignis and aranea have a weird, emotionally repressed, fucked up dance around one another. tonight ignis realizes that maybe he's feeling some shit he was never supposed to feel.





	different pages of the same book

**Author's Note:**

> based off the way highspecs works with my rp partner and i. they're really emotionally constipated but they like to fuck.

Rarely do they meet with one another like this – her returning to the apartment they’ve accidentally moved into together  _(not too difficult when faced with the already cramped living space that Lestallum has become)_ , tired and irritable –  _he can tell merely by the volume of her heels clicking against the floor._  

She’s had a long day, and he has too, but tonight he has returned home before her, and though they speak little of their strange arrangement, she does not turn him away when his lips press into the skin of her throat, fingers just touching her hips as he seeks her skin. Merely lays her head to the side and a long breath through her nose is his indication that yes – he is making the right choice. If he wasn’t, truthfully, she likely would have kicked him out the second his fingers met with her personal space.

Ignis thinks these days that he can hardly read anyone as well as he can Aranea, merely by the cadence of her breath, the sharpness of her step, the tension in her body when he tests the waters, and yet – they seem to hardly say a word to one another. Especially in moments like these. As if it would break some sort of sacred illusion. Everything she needs to know she can find in his lips at her skin, his long fingers just curling under her loose shirt, and were she feeling herself he knows she would have pressed him back against their wall, covered his mouth with hers until neither of them could breathe – but she doesn’t do that tonight. 

Instead, she allows him to lead her to his own bedroom, lay her down on the bed and divest her of her clothes once he’s parted with his own. Ignis’ touches are slow tonight, gentle, and the strange, slow mood balances on a tightrope. If either of them makes a miscalculation, they will fall. Break upon the ground below, with no way to tell where the pieces should go. They do not kiss, not tonight. Kisses are desperate, heated things, and to bring them here would only push them over an edge neither of them have the desire to step over. 

He calms her tension and nerves with his slow fingers, showing her what sex can feel like with a bit of gentleness, touching her skin with his lips and tongue while he leaves himself hot and heavy between his legs for now. Aranea begins to tremble beneath him like a leaf, like a colt poised to run from an unknown danger. Ignis knows this because he begins to feel the same way – frightened, and so his mouth suckling on her breast turns rougher, bites at her and tugs before letting go. His fingers press into her heat, dipping in just enough to test the slickness between her thighs, a thumb rubbing at her clit to encourage more, distracting her from the strange soft fondness  _(he feels it, but whether she does too, he doesn’t know)_  floating around them with the sweet curling heat of sex. 

Still, they say nothing, for if they did, he knows they would break. Their fear of intimacy is what allows them to do this, and Ignis feels dangerously close to the shattering of that unspoken promise tonight. He raises up onto his knees and drapes one of her legs over his shoulder, leaving the other one sprawled out between them as he starts his thrusts, slow and methodical. When she allows him to control the pace he is always this way – a slow, purposeful building of heat and tension, and he is content to drive them both mad together. 

Ah… But tonight, he knows he cannot. Aranea needs release, needs to forget, to feel sated and safe and relaxed and Ignis has no intentions of keeping it from her, but as the pants between them grow louder and he reaches between them to pluck at her nipples with his thumb and forefinger, while his other turns towards her swollen clit once more, she bats him away. Sighs, and he can hear the wet sounds of her rubbing at herself while their hips meet, while she contracts around him and arches into his hands, every muscle in her body screaming for more. Ignis grunts as he rolls faster into her body, presses her harder into the sheets, and the fingers he might have used to help her climax along instead reach for her face – to stroke along her perfect cheekbones, the wrinkles only just beginning to form in the corners of her eye, there too he is denied. Batted away, and through the moans that spill from her throat, through her toes curling around his ear and her abdomen tensing with the force of her orgasm she gasps a single word:  **“Stop.”**

And so he does. His hand instead braces itself on the metal bedframe, with Aranea twitching and bringing herself to completion a second time before he’s pulling himself from inside of her body, grunting while he uses his own hand to bring himself over the edge, catching most of his release on his own fingers. 

Finished, their spell ends, and Aranea, still naked, curls herself into his sheets and starts well on her way to rest. Ignis knows he should be pleased – after all, he’s accomplished his goal in relaxing her. 

And yet… He cannot help but feel a deep and aching emptiness in his chest as he washes himself clean and settles, alone, in her bed.


End file.
